Disappearing Act

So, it's been well-documented on this blog that I worry a lot.

About anything and everything.

Especially, about stupid things that I have zero control over. I know that worrying is completely senseless and that it has no bearing over the ultimate outcome of anything, but I can't seem to locate the worry switch in my brain and turn it off.

But, heaven knows, I'll keep trying.

There are a lot of things to worry about when you live alone. I won't list them because it's late and I'm scared of the dark and I'm exhausted (staying up till 3:30 this morning seemed like a good idea at the time) and I need to sleep all night tonight and not lay awake worrying about things I cannot control, so I'll save the list for another time.

So, the other week, I was reading an article on KSL about a lady who had been found in her home weeks after she passed away. I honestly can't really think of anything more disturbing. How sad for the person who found her...and, how sad for that poor lady that she didn't have anyone close enough to miss her for that long.

So, as I typically do, I applied this sad story to my life. I live alone and I am really good at disappearing - occasionally, for days at a time. Honestly, if I'm working on a project or not feeling well, or if I'm mad at someone (of course, that never happens), I will go the whole weekend without talking to another soul.

I went camping last night with some friends (hence, the late night). It was so much fun - and a much-needed getaway. The aforementioned KSL article came up at one point, and I just commented that I have wondered how long it would take for someone to discover me if I died at home.

I was not trying to be morbid.

I was not trying to get attention.

I am not suicidal or expecting to die anytime soon.

I was not trying to get sympathy.

I was not trying to make anyone feel bad.

My friends all laughed at my silliness and promised they will check in with me every couple of days just to make sure my corpse isn't rotting in some random corner of my home.

That's all I needed. Just a little reassurance.

I just got this text from my bestie Amber:

Yep, she knows me. I am not always the best at returning texts and/or phone calls but I am trying to be better.

She also knows that since I stayed up so late last night that I am already in bed.

At 9:30.

On a Saturday night.

I am such a party animal.

She's a good friend to have around...for this, and because I'm also pretty positive she would help me move a body if the need arose without asking a lot of questions...